We were at his house, sitting on the little roof that was right under his window. His mom had always been scared of us being able to get out there, but once we figured it out two years before, in sixth grade, she hadn’t been able to do anything to stop us from going out there. Of course if she told us no roof a certain day than we’d listen, since whenever that happened there was usually a list of reasons like it’s raining, or there’s more bee’s today, or it might be too hot up there or cold. They were never legitimate reasons, but if it made her feel better than it was worth it.

Sebastian didn’t know I knew, but I could tell something was up with his mom. Ever since a few months ago she had been starting to have “stomach bugs” and problems with her back. Heartburn, even though it didn’t seem like heartburn when I overheard her talking about it to her friend over the phone. I didn’t mean to, but the bathroom wall connected to her bedroom let any sound pass right through. All I knew was that something was wrong and that it was causing Sebastian to always be subtly checking up on her. I also once heard him lowly bickering with her about how he didn’t want her doing all she did anymore. How it was causing her pain. I wasn’t an eavesdropper, it only happened twice and was always on accident.

I stood with my back against the wall, head turned towards where Sebastian and Ms. Carter were arguing. Ms. Carter had been saying how she was doing just fine, but I guess Sebastian could see right through her. “Mom,” he pushed, “I’ll pull weeds, and mop, and vacuum. Walk Cooper. And do all the harder things. I know you wanna do things yourself but this thing is not gonna get better if you’re not willing to give up on things to ease up on yourself,” I frowned when hearing his words. His tone was sad, and he sounded worrying.

“You should be Matilda from Brave,” Sebastian said out of nowhere, interrupting me from my thoughts. I looked at him with the uttermost confusion.

“That was really random,” I laughed, “and it’s Merida,” I corrected.

He rolled his eyes with a playful smile, “Whatever. I was watching it with my little cousin the other day. You could be her real life actor,” he told me. I didn’t say anything else, just shook my head and crossed my ankles as we laid.

It took a while, but eventually I looked at my friend, “Seb,” I mumbled. His head snapped in my direction, eyes wide in question. I thumbed at the sleeve of my hoodie. “Is your mom okay?” I asked gently. I watched his expression change. The crease in his forehead when he furrowed his eyebrows, and the frown that tugged on his lips. He looked in his lap, and his curls fell forward, blocking his face. He got on his knees and crawled back through the window, falling forward onto the bed. I followed behind him, doing the same. After all, there was a reason the bed was there.

The warm air was welcoming, and Cooper, Sebastian’s dog, jumped down from the bed. Most likely annoyed at being jumbled around on the bed. He went to lay down on the ground, but I called his name, and instead he stood and stared at me. “You have to move the blanket,” Sebastian flattened the duvet, so that it wasn’t bunched up. Then, called the dog up. Thankfully it was a big enough bed, or else Cooper probably wouldn’t have gotten up, being the stubborn dog he is. I ran my fingers through his thick black coat, rubbing behind his ears.

“Seb,” I looked back up at my friend.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “you can’t tell anyone,” he reached across and grabbed my hand, or wrist rather. I nodded quickly, full of concern. His grip loosened, so my hand rested on Cooper’s back where I was petting him. His fingers curled over the wrist cuff of my sweatshirt, bare hand hovering on mine. “She’s sick,” the way he spoke sounded like he was asking a question, “but not just a normal like passing over sick. I don’t know what it is, if it’s a disease or something, but she told me that she’s sick, and that it’s not bad. But she has these weird stomach ache things. Or chest aches. I-I don’t know. Some days it’ll affect her back too, and she has to spend most of the day lying down,” he wouldn’t look up at me. No matter how much I silently begged him to.

Sebastian sniffled, “I think it might get worse. She goes to the doctor every two weeks, and takes a few pills per day,” he let go of my hand, laying back against the roof, “I don’t know what to do, Meg,” his voice cracked. I could see him holding in any tears and weakness.

“I don’t know,” I scooched back to rest my back against the side of the house. On any other day I’d be nervous about it happening, but at the moment I thought nothing of it as Sebastian lifted himself up for me to move, and casually laid his head onto my lap.

“She’s one of the strongest people I know. If it’s anything bad she’ll end up fighting through it just fine, I know it, Seb,” there was a curl sticking right up on his head, and when I raked my fingers through to fix it he closed his eyes. My hands froze, and I almost hated myself for gently threading my fingers through his hair again until he sighed in content.

“I love ya, Meg, okay?” he opened his eyes and looked at me.

I nodded, “I love you too,” I spoke quietly.

“She’s hangin in there,” Sebastian said when I asked about his mother. We were laying in the backyard, the grass tickling the back of her neck. I turned my head, my temple leaning against his shoulder.

“That’s good,” I mumbled, “you know you can come to me if you or her ever need anything,” I raised my eyebrows. Sebastian didn’t say anything, only nodded. And although he didn’t speak, and told me his mom was doing alright, I could see right through him. I had seen Ms. Carter, and if anything she was doing worse. So much worse. Sometimes when I would come over she would be lying on the couch, and would still be there by the time I left a few hours later. It worried me. Constantly. Yet I never said anything or asked Ms. Carter if she needed anything. I was told by Sebastian that she could be hard headed, and didn’t want anyone trying to do her work for her because of her sickness.

Sebastian turned onto his side, his head tilting into the grass and his eyes closing. He let out a heavy sigh. “It’s all stressful,” he told me, “she could be doing so much more to help herself, but the only thing she’s doing is taking her meds, going to the doctors every so often, and doing more work than she should be doing. It’s tiring her out,” he was playing with me curls, fiery red frizzy ringlets.

“She’s independent. Has been her whole life. She just doesn’t want anyone seeing any weakness in her, I’d think,” I tried comforting him, but he just shrugged, and sat up. I rose myself as well, trying to see his line of vision out into the tree’s.

“They’re out there,” he told me, “fields and fields of them. As far as the eye can see,” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Of course I had heard about the fields more than ever, but still to that day I never figured out what he meant by it. He pointed to the horizon, and I looked, but all I could see were the trees that lined his backyard, and the stars that littered the sky. I never knew who or what he was talking about, or if “they” were real or not. I always said I knew, and even though I really didn’t, he always knew that.

We had been lying in his backyard for the past two weeks, the screen door nudged open in case Cooper wanted to push it open with his nose and join us outside. The March air was chilling, but with sweatshirts on it felt just fine. Especially since the one I’d wear was one of Sebastian’s that always would smell of him. Or maybe some Old Spice smell, since that was what he used, but it had become his smell. The one that I never knew but always reminded me of him.

“Can I show you something?” he sat up, and when I silently nodded, he stood and pulled me up. He kept my hand in his as we walked, or as he guided me, back through the trees that lined his backyard. I had to admit, now that the sun was starting to go down, it was a bit creepy being in the woods in the dark night.

We kept walking and walking until things started to open up, and a field was brought out in front of us. It wasn’t anything special, a big random field of what maybe were yellow and purple wildflowers. However I wasn’t too bright on my plants and flowers, and it was dark. Realization washed over me like a flood. I felt stupid that the thing he had been telling me about for years on end was right in his backyard. “Fields,” I said.

Sebastian looked embarrassed, “Yeah,” he mumbled, and leaned down to pluck one of the purple field flowers. They easily could have been weeds. I had seen my mom pulling them before, but I didn’t say anything. I just stood there with my hands at my sides and let him tuck the flower into my hair. It stood up, making me look like a grew a sprout on my head. Sebastian laughed, and I joined in. I pulled it out of my hair and put it in my jeans pocket so that it peeked out the top.

“They’re my mom's favorite, the purple wildflowers,” he gave me a gentle smile, c***ing his head the smallest bit. I nodded, because I knew. She always would randomly have plastic cups of those flowers on the kitchen counter when we were younger. Full and stuffed in there from all the ones Sebastian kept picking up for her all the time. Especially after his grandfather passed away when we were seven years old, and the stupid hamster that always clawed my thighs when we were ten. It always just seemed like a sign of loss to me, even though I liked to ignore it ever since I saw them on Ms. Carter’s desk a week ago.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen with her, so I just keep on picking more and more just in case. Maybe for a bit of good luck? I just… I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me anything but I need to know because I’m almost all she has left. And she’s all I have,” his hand grazed mine, and he was playing with my sleeve again, a habit he had always had.

I looked at him hopefully, taking his hand and squeezing it, “You have me,” I pointed out.

He didn’t look up, “I guess,” he whispered.

I furrowed my eyebrows, dropping my hand from his, “You guess?” I asked, “Seb, I’ve been here for you since you first told me she was sick. I’ve always been here for you, even when that dumb skin cutting hamster died,” I told him. His mouth fished open and closed, and I waited anxiously for a response. Though after a minute or two I looked down disappointedly. I ran a hand through my hair. “Fine, okay,” I sighed, turning and walking away slowly, secretly hoping for him to say something.

He didn’t say anything, but he suddenly ran up behind me and wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me back against him. His head fell into the crook of my neck, and he let out a shaky sigh. It felt as if his tall frame curled around me, and I leaned my head back against him. I didn’t realize I had grabbed onto his hand until his fingers dug into my palm. It was an awkward stance, in all honesty, but the moment gave me the reassurance I needed.

I turned in Sebastian’s hold, wrapping my arms around his torso. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s okay,” I looked up at him.

“I- no, not okay. You’ve been here for me the whole time like you said and I was just a total ass to you,” his shoulders slumped.

“I know,” I murmured, “and you have this serious thing going on in your life. You get to be sometimes,” I pulled my arms back to me, and fiddled with the string of his hoodie. It hung long on the one side and short on the other.

Sebastian had his hands on me, one on my arm and the other on my back. We were already standing closer than we maybe needed to be, and I felt like my stomach was going to burst with jitters when we met eyes. It was weird. It was different, and I hadn’t the slightest idea why. His fingers curled up, gently scratching accidentally at the small of my back. It made me want to smile. I kept a straight face instead.

I felt like his face had gotten impossibly closer to mine within seconds, instead it was more like minutes of us just standing there. And when he was close enough, I just pressed my forehead against his and closed my eyes. Not for him to kiss me, just… because we were both there.

Seb’s lips twitched towards mine a tiny bit, as if to kiss me. I could feel my hands shaking with nerves, and I would’ve possibly made a move if it weren’t for his phone going off, giving a little ding from a text message. I pulled away briskly, keeping a soft hidden smile on my face. I gathered my hands inside the sleeves of the sweatshirt I wore. I looked down, attempting to dig my heel into the grass. Waiting for Sebastian to read the text, and waiting for something to happen next. If we had to leave then we could forget that this even happened. The almost kiss. If we didn’t have to go, then it would leave us both looking anywhere but at each other.

“My mom wants us both home for dinner,” Sebastian told me. I shot him a soft smile, and nodded. We joined side by side to walk back, arms occasionally touching.

“We cooking?” I asked suddenly, considering we had been cooking lately to make things easier.

Sebastian laughed, “Of course,” he slung an arm around my shoulders, and I couldn’t help but smile.

It was the beginning of June, after Sophomore year, when Sebastian came to my house with tear stained cheeks and hair sticking up all over. He had always had wild loose curls, but it kind of looked like he had just woken up from a vicious sleep. Did I mention it was ten in the morning? He usually would get up at eight, so no doubt he would have been up and out by then.

I had to rub the tired out of my eyes, and stepped back to let him in. He walked right into the kitchen, and I followed blindly. “What happened to you?” I asked. I tried sitting him down in a chair, but he only brought his palms to his eyes and fell back against the wall and dropping to the ground, letting out a cry.

I panicked, sinking down next to him and pulling him into my arms. I dropped back onto my butt. His legs hung over my thigh, my other leg lying straight. I carded my fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. He was lanky and tall, leaving me wondering how he successfully curled up in my lap.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I cooed, pressing my cheek to the top of his head. I widened my eyes when my mom walked into view from being in the other room, and shook my head furiously for her to leave.

“She, j-just,” he choked on his words, taking heavy unstable breathes. He had my tshirt balled up in his fists.

“Shhh, no, it’s okay. She’s okay,” I didn’t know what other to say than to get him to shut up and let out his cries. I didn’t know what was wrong, what happened or if his mom was even okay. I was clueless about why he was even here. I just wanted him to calm down.

He did, eventually, and an hour later we sat on the couch with tea for him and milk for me. He was being quiet, which was never a good thing. He kept tracing the rim of his mug with his fingers.

“It was like one in the morning. I was obviously asleep, but then I think she was screaming. It woke me up and I ran to her room. I-I don’t even remember what she was yelling to me for. I was panicking and scared so I picked her up and, and, uhm, drove to the hospital,” he wiped his nose, sniffling.

“You drove?” I asked. Both of us only had our permits.

I expected him to maybe crack a small smile at least, at the fact that he technically drove illegally. He didn’t. Only nodded with a grim expression. “Yeah. I was so scared I would crash. She kept saying to go slow but I-I was shaking so bad. I think I might’ve made an illegal turn too,” he furrowed his eyebrows worriedly.

“Hey, it’s fine. You got her there without crashing, yeah?” I asked.

He nodded once again, “We had to wait a half hour for them to take her in, and then since she uh, passed out at some point at the hospital, it took a few more hours while they did tests and stuff. I think they called my grandmom. She lives an hour away though, so I couldn’t see her for another hour and a half because then they had to talk to my grandmom,” he said. He was silent after that for a while, and I didn’t want to, but I asked him to continue. “She has cancer,” I barely heard the words leave his mouth. I pursed my lips to refrain from gasping. “She has to stay there for the next few weeks,” he set his cup onto the side table and laid down so his head was in my lap.

“I’m sorry,” I put my empty cup down as well, and gently played with his hair. Neither of us said anything for what felt like forever. We went from the living room couch to my room to lay on the ground with the lights out, so that the old sticky glow in the dark stars would light up on the ceiling. We stayed up in my room for so long, playing music, lying around, talking of small things. Eventually he got a call from his grandmom telling him to come home for dinner, and he parted ways with no more than a hug, no words exchanged.

The whole thing was hard for him. Although it was summer, and he had no plans whatsoever, he still wasn’t able to be with his mother all the time. He hasn’t been allowed in the hospital with his mother all day, most likely since he was still a minor. He always went at noon, when Ms. Carter was sure to be awake. Then, he’d be home at seven, and I would go over his house at eight. We would lay in the grass, as per his request, to watch the sunset and talk among ourselves.

Three weeks had passed without any change. I never got any info about whether his mother was doing better or not, although I could guess she wasn’t home like he said she might’ve been after those few weeks. It was a subject that was always avoided. Almost every subject was avoided, actually, when we were out there. It was like an unspoken backyard sanctuary. We laid in the same spots, same positions. Me with my hands folded on my stomach and him with his behind his head, eyes closed. I don’t think I ever closed mine, my worries about his situation and him in general always coursed through me. But I remember the way he’s always smell of some spice that I was never able to pin down, and how after another month passed into September whenever we laid out there I could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. No matter how warm it still was outside around us.

But then, as if in tune with the seasons, things started to change. His yard became my yard. Every night became every few days, until it was only weekends and texts on weekdays. And when he suddenly disappeared without a word, I went back to his yard. Every night. Heartbroken and confused. Hoping that he’d be back and that it wasn’t the end of us. Within the first few days, I went to his house, thinking that maybe he just hadn’t been able to get in touch with me. But it was empty. All his things were there, except for most of his clothes, but no one was there. Cooper was even gone.

I had sat in his room for probably two hours, wondering where he could be. His grandmothers, maybe, but I had no idea where that was, and he wouldn’t answer his phone. It left me confused. Not on why he left, because there were obvious reasons, but on why he didn’t tell me he was leaving. He left me alone with my own thoughts for weeks on end. It makes he regret not asking how everything was going, if his mom was doing better or worse, checking up on him as if I was his parent instead of leaving the whole situation alone like I had done.

One night, before going to lay in the backyard, I found his hoodie. The one he wore almost every day unless there was a reason not to. I picked it up, pushing my nose into the soft fabric and smelling it. It could’ve looked weird, but it smelt like him, and that was all that mattered.

I tried convincing myself that I was mad at him for not saying goodbye, but there was nothing in the world that could make me think such a thing. Not even when it was then September, leaving the whole month before a thing of silence and sadness. Because one day, when I went over right after school and used my key to get into the house to clean like I had been doing, there was a cup. A red plastic solo cup with those stupid purple flowers that died within a day. I picked it up, staring into it before seeing a patch lying upside down. I knew what it was the second I saw it, and took it carefully in my hands, turning it over. It was a The Police patch. As in the band. A group I never listened much to but who Sebastian always loved. I kept it pinned to my backpack, like how he used to do. It reminded me of him whenever I laid eyes on it, even my mom knew it was his.

I was laying in his backyard. It was cold, the October air whipping my cheeks and soaking through my leggings. I had gotten used to the silence of his house, and the loneliness of not having him anywhere near. It still hurt, no doubt, but I didn’t expect him to return, as horrible as it was to think about.

I fiddled with the string of his hoodie, wrapping it tight around my finger and letting it go, only to do it again. There was a crack. I sat up fast, giving myself whiplash. A stick. It had to be a stick. Please let it be a stick. I thought. I felt my throat tighten as I stood up. I didn’t want to turn around. It was a person, and I had a good guess on who it was, but I couldn’t turn. It were as if my feet were glued to the ground. My eyes stuck on the tree’s. The stars, and the fields beyond the tree’s.

“She’s out there now, too, Meg,” his voice spoke, and my face crumpled. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, waiting for him to walk to me. And when he did stand in front of me, I gritted my teeth.

I looked at him. I really looked at him. His hair was longer, eyes a greyish blue. He looked so much taller, even though I knew he hadn’t grown. “I know,” I sighed, blinking my eyes hard, “she’s in the fields watching us,” I couldn’t help but let out a sob. I didn’t know whether it was because of his mother, or him being there. But I didn’t want him to leave.

Sebastian took a breath, “I’m so sorry,” he told me, “I should have told you and talked to you, but… I just-”

“Oh my god,” it was the only thing I could get out before pulling him down by the neck and kissing him. It took him by surprise, for sure, but he just responded quicker than I even did, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me back. My hand slid up his neck, to the side of his head. His curls wrapped around my fingers when I slid them through. And when he pulled me close as skin and kept kissing me. Full with sadness, and longing, and sorrow. Love.

He pulled away, tucking his head into my neck. He calmed down quickly. “I love you so much,” he breathed, and pulled away so I could see his face, “a-and not in the whole friend way, like the actual way. And I’ve been such an ass, not saying anything or telling you anything but there was so much going on, and I was scared, an-” I cut him off again.

“Seb, Sebastian stop it. I don’t care. You had more to worry about than me and that’s fine,” I assured him.

He smiles, something I hadn't seen for months and months, and just pushed his lips onto mine once more. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was smiles against smiles, and hugging and squeezing hands and hips, and I couldn’t of wanted anything more.